You Saved Me
by mooncheese1331
Summary: Brittany has a dark secret only Quinn knows. Santana is about to find out the hard way that there's a reason why Brittany is so ditzy.Rating should be a little less than M. Brittana/Faberry and Fabrittana friendship. Warning: Violence and heavy triggers.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So like I said, this is a graphic story, I'll try to tone it down but I've seen worse on here. This story contains heavy triggers. Let me know any concerns you have!**

I come from a broken home. I live with my grandparents now. My father is in jail. I have no clue who my mom is. I pretend to be a ditz to prevent anyone except Quinn from getting close to me.

Then Santana Lopez showed up.

She managed to decode me. Somehow, she understood me.

Until he was taken away, I had to hide the bruises, the scars, the pain in my eyes. I developed a rep as a ditz or stupid because I danced around every topic that could lead to my dad.

I hated myself. I found myself believing what he said. I was worthless. Replaceable. The reason I didn't know my mom.

During freshman year, Santana Lopez transferred. We immediately became friends. We joined the Cheerios together.

One day, he wasn't careful enough. He left a giant bruise on my shoulder, starting next to my neck and ending just below the shoulder. I didn't notice it.

By this time, Santana and I were getting our sexy times on. We hadn't informed anyone of our relationship yet, either. She brushed across my neck and I stiffened, wanting to scream with pain.

He eyes traveled to the spot, and she gently slid my uniform's shoulder down.

She recoiled. I was helpless. I had no way to tell her that I wasn't as ditzy as everyone thought, that my dad should be in jail.

She took a few deep breaths. "Who did this Britt?"

I squeaked. If I told her, she would most likely kill him and my safety net of ditzdom would evaporate.

The only other person who knew was Quinn.

_I walked into the room, and saw a horrific sight. I thought my dad was the only one._

_Quinn was being held down by her dad, her head turned away. I watched with terror as he punched the shit out of her._

We discussed it later. We made a pact to always be there for each other.

"Karofsky." I lied.

She sucked in a breath and kissed the bruise. She ran out of the janitor's closet and I heard her yell.

I smiled that she would do that for me, but it evaporated when I realized she was hitting the wrong guy.

A few months later, I ended up in the hospital because of him. He had tried to kill me, so drunk he thought I was my mom. He smashed an empty Vodka bottle against my head and then almost suffocated me. I managed to push him off, and called Santana. She didn't ask questions, she thought I was so ditzy I hit my head.

A year later, it was getting worse. He was aiming for more noticeable spots, or hitting harder in less noticeable spots.

One day I sent Santana to pick up some batteries.

I heard a sickening crash, and I bolted my door.

"Brittany! Get the fuck down here!" I winced.

I heard him slam a door, and his heavy breathing from downstairs penetrated my room. I gulped.

I hid in my closet and heard Santana come in the door. Shit, he was too drunk. He thought Santana was me.

I heard a scream.

I heard the noise I knew all too well, the sound of his fist connecting with flesh. I grimaced. Shit. Another scream.

"BRITTANY! NO,NO,NO, PLEASE! BRITTANY!" I jumped out of my closet and ran downstairs.

I found my dad sitting on top of her, punching the snot out of her beautiful face. "You…will…come…when…you're…called." He panted, still punching.

I saw tears stream down her face.

I turned him around and smacked him. Hard. No one messes with my girl.

He seemed to sober enough to realize that she wasn't me.

He smiled a sickening grin and grabbed my hair.

"Shit, Santana, get the fuck out of here! Don't call the cops, I'll explain later!"

She nodded and gulped, but didn't move. Probably shell-shocked.

He dragged me towards his study. He locked the door and positioned me on the desk so my head was touching the ground.

He started with my stomach. My abs hissed in pain as he brought his fists down on them, showing no reason to stop. I screamed as he hit a rib, probably breaking it.

He moved to my arms.

Then he did something he could never apologize for.

He kicked my head. Hard, repeatedly.

I was sobbing, not caring about masking my emotions anymore.

He stopped and launched himself on me, dragging my head up by a fistful of my hair.

"You. Little. Slut. You will come when you are called, you hear me? You are so insignificant. The reason your mother left. You tell that Latin bitch anything and I. Will. Kill. You. Nod if you understand."

I nodded, scared for my life. I knew he was dead serious.

"Good." He dragged me up by my ear and shoved me out the door. He disappeared into his office to drink some more.

I looked up and saw a still unmoving Latina in front of me. I sighed and grabbed her arm.

"I told you to get the fuck away. He could have hurt you worse, trust me. If you come over any more, you can't say a word and you have to listen to me when I tell you to leave from something. I don't want you to have to see this." I hissed in her ear, dragging her to my car.

I placed her in the passenger seat and myself into the driver's seat. I gunned the ignition and headed over to Quinn's house.

Santana had seemed confused. I texted Quinn the numbers '234690' and she burst out the door a minute later.

It was a code we had, 2 meant drunk, 3 meant arms, 4 meant head, and 6 meant ribs/stomach. 8 meant legs and 9 meant we thought something was broken.0 meant we were outside their houses.

I jumped out of the car and started sobbing into Quinn.

"He found Santana first. God how are we gonna explain this? He was hitting her so hard, Quinn, I needed to do something, I slapped him, then he dragged me to his study and he flipped me upside down. He hit my stomach, I think he broke my rib, and he kicked my head so many times Quinn."

She glanced at Santana and her darkening face.

I slowly pulled away and opened the door.

"San?"

She managed to turn her head from the position it had been in for several minutes, and looked fearfully at me.

I pulled her up and Quinn walked us inside.

Once in her bedroom, Santana curled up in a ball and cried.

I got next to her and rubbed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Quinn ruffled her hair and sat awkwardly next to us. She turned and saw my broken expression, my sad eyes. He glanced at my lips and I just lay my head next to her.

She moved quickly, catching me by surprise. Soon she was all over me, hugging me, kissing me, finally she settled on my lips.

She playfully bit my bottom lip and I rolled my eyes. She would.

Quinn looked at us with an eyebrow raised but didn't say anything. Santana followed my gaze.

She swiped at my lip, looking for deeper access. I shook my head no, looking at Quinn. She groaned and turned away. I smiled into the kiss and parted my lips. She smiled. She needed this.

It was hungry, like she needed me to ensure her sanity.

We broke apart some minutes later.

We found Quinn staring off with tears running down her face. I wrapped my arms around her comfortingly. San looked at me but I shot her a warning glance.

We heard a car pull up in the driveway. Not again.

"Shit." She hissed.

I grimaced and got up, my stomach already stiff.

"It's fine, I'll drive us to the hospital. Be safe." I whispered and started for the window.

I turned back to see a very confused Santana.

I grabbed her arm.

She shrunk away and I pulled her up.

I ran onto her balcony and climbed down her tree, dragging Santana along.

The last sound we heard before we reached the ground was a scream.

**AN: I'm gonna continue this if I get reviews or not, but they are appreciated :) Lemme know if the rating should be changed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: this chapter was a little dark, but meaningful to the story line. Contains triggers, you have been warned.**

I dragged a stricken Santana to my car. I sat her in the passenger seat and sat myself in the driver's seat.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Santana started working her mouth, like she was trying to say something.

"How long?" she asked, voice trembling.

"For Quinn, since she was seven. For me, since I can remember."

"He's been doing this to you for 14 years?"

I looked at her frail form and pulled her into a hug.

She was sobbing when I heard my phone go off. I pulled away, recognizing the ringtone I had assigned to friends.

"Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep

Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep

But I made up my mind, I'm keeping my baby, oh

I'm gonna keep my baby, mmm...

He says that he's going to marry me

We can raise a little family

Maybe we'll be all right

It's a sacrifice

But my friends keep telling me to give it up

Saying I'm too young, I ought to live it up

What I need right now is some good advice, please."

I picked up and heard Quinn on the other end, sobbing.

"3, 8, and 10." She whispered, and hung up.

Shit. 10 meant the other form of abuse, the one that no amount of therapy could get you through.

10 meant rape.

I hung up and flung open the door.

"Stay here." I told a fearful Santana.

I sprinted up the tree and on to her balcony, finding her on her bed sobbing uncontrollably naked.

"Está bien, está bien. No se preocupe, el es hombre malo, malo. Él va a quemar en el infierno por lo que hace a ti."

She looked up and I hugged her. There were tears in her eyes. I tucked her under the sheets.

After a few minutes, I noticed her staring at something. There was fear in her eyes and I followed her gaze to Santana.

After her dad struck, she usually didn't recognize anyone but me for about a half an hour, because her mind was too scared and distrustful to recognize or use any common sense.

She sobbed into me, but was still looking at Santana.

"A-are you gonna hurt me too?" she asked, tears flowing freely.

I hugged her. "No, no, cariño, no va a doler. Ella no es tu padre. Chica, el es uno loco. Santana quiere ayudar. Ella es mi novia y tus mejores amiga."

Santana stared at me, open-mouthed.

"Te amo, Britt. ¿Cuándo usted aprendas español?" she whispered.

"I decided to learn it when we became friends, I was sick of not knowing what you were saying. I taught Quinn the essentials."

She stared at me, horror filling her eyes. "Then you heard me-and understood me- all those times I said I wanted t-"

"Toque en mí. No me jodas. Hazme el amor. Fecha de mí. Dame un beso. Cásate conmigo. Ser mi novia. Hacer que los bebés conmigo. Ámame. Abrázame. Yes, I did. And San, I love you even more for it. That's actually why I wanted to learn the language. I could tell by the look in your eyes that you liked me, and I wanted to understand you."

Her eyes grew wider. "So you understood me every time I said that I wanted to touch you. Fuck you. Kiss you."

I fidgeted as Quinn's eyes grew wider and she started crying.

"Brittany! She ju-just s-said that word. That word that, that, that, that, that, that, that…"

Santana seemed very confused. "What? I all I said was that Brittany understood me when I said I wanted to fuck her-"

I cut her off with a look and Quinn started sobbing into the bed.

She was shaking and her sheets fell off her, exposing her violated body, now peppered with bruises.

I shot San a pleading look. Please don't comment.

"Oh my god, holy shit."

This sent her into another fit of hysterics and I glanced upwardly to an apparently uncaring God.

Santana had no idea what to do. This was way beyond her. I kissed Quinn, but not in a weird or cheating-on-San kind of way, more like a 'it's okay, it's gonna get better, I'm here' kind of way.

"Quinn, honey, we're going outside for a second, we're just out there. If you need us, call."

I slipped on my shoes and tugged Santana out on to the balcony.

Santana looked up at me with teary eyes.

"Brittany. Does. Your. Dad. Do. That. To. You."

"Not… not recently?" I asked the statement, hoping to diffuse the tension. The last time _that_ had happened was last month.

"Brittany…"

"Santana, it's okay. I'm stronger than anyone knows. I'm smart, book smart, and I have to hide it because of him. I'm just worried about you." I stated, noticing her darkening bruises.

"Brittany, this isn't supposed to be happening. I'm not supposed to be crying, you're supposed to be sobbing into my arms! Why are you so calm about this? And why don't you seem hurt at all?"

I put a finger to her lips and motioned to the window, where you could make out a broken Quinn putting on her torn clothes.

"Do you trust me?" I asked.

She nodded, eyebrow furrowing.

I wrapped my arms around her for a hug and after letting go, in one swift motion jumped off the balcony.

Santana looked at me throughout the 10 foot drop like I was insane.

I hit the ground and felt a sharp pain in my rib. Definitely broken. I scurried up the tree and landed next to a confused Santana.

"And what exactly did that prove?"

"It's how Quinn and I condition. If we can beat the pain of hitting the ground from 10 feet up, we can handle whatever shit our dads give us. Today wasn't anything compared to what either of them usually do. I was crying at Quinn because I wasn't ready for you to know."

I bit my lip and hung my head.

She patted my shoulder as a tear started to form. She leaned up and kissed me, catching me by surprise.

I eagerly kissed back, until it was a full-blown make out session. We made our way into Quinn's bedroom, still kissing, and sat down on her bed.

Santana realized where we were and looked up to see a still shaking Quinn.

She looked at me nervously and I said through the kiss, "Quinn's gay, she knows what we do, she does it too. Don't worry, Chica."

Santana pulled back. I pouted at the loss of contact.

"You're gay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Rachel… she's my girlfriend. We aren't coming out any time soon though."

Santana's eyes bugged out of her head.

"You… and Berry…? I thought she was dating that ass Finn?"

Quinn covered her ears and went outside. She was still fragile, and she needed some alone time and could not handle this conversation now.

"Finn and Rachel are each other's beards. Quinn and Rachel have been going out since a few months before Finn asked Rachel out the second time, this time as his beard."

I paused, letting her soak this in.

"So let me get this straight. A gay guy gave his virginity to a lesbian, then the second time he had sex it was also with a lesbian? Hm, I guess he liked the scent of golf course."

I smiled, she would think that.

"No, Finn never had sex with Rachel."

Quinn walked back in the room; her walls back up, no longer shaking.

I smile weakly at her.

I give her a one-armed hug and we sit down on the bed together, Santana in between us.

"We have to tell the cops, or something." Santana said.

Quinn and I's eyes grew twice their size and we shook our heads rapidly.

"Santana, we live in the most homophobic town in America. As soon as our dads let it slip that I'm bi and she's a lesbian, no one would believe us. They would think that we were just trying for early emancipation or getting back at them for an unkind remark." I told her.

"Then what do we do? Quinn is being raped and you're getting the shit kicked out of you. The bruises are proof!"

"We fell down the stairs." Quinn and I recited in unison.

She sighed, exasperated. "Look guys, we have to tell someone. Quinn, Rachel needs to know, and we need to tell someone who would just be there for us."

"Okay, fair enough, how about we tell Mr. Schue?" I offered.

We nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later Quinn took out her phone and dialed Rachel's number.

"Hey baby, can you come over? We'll meet you out front."

A muffled yes was heard from the other end.

"Great, see you in a few."

We crept down the stairs, not positive that Quinn's dad was passed out.

I took a sharp intake of breath. He wasn't.

He grabbed Quinn and I punched him in the nose. Santana leapt on him like a panther and choked him out.

We ran for my car.

We locked all the doors and drove as fast as we could, only to see a car pull up. Shit. Rachel.

I swerved the car as fast as possible as she got out of the car. A drunken Mr. Fabray stumbled down the yard.

Rachel's eyes widened as I jumped out of the car, grabbed her, and threw her into the backseat with Quinn. I jumped just as quickly into the driver's seat and we sped off towards my house. Hopefully my dad was asleep or had left. Hopefully.

"Rachel baby, I need to you to hear something."

**Here's the code that Brittany and Quinn use:**

**0. At your house**

**1. Slap**

**2. Drunk**

**3. Arms**

**4. Head**

**5. Severe Verbal Abuse**

**6. Stomach/ Ribs**

**7. Back**

**8. Legs**

**9. Something's broken**

**10. Rape or sexual abuse**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Contains pretty heavy triggers, I honestly know nothing about this topic, so I'm going off other fics and what I've heard. This is probably the most twisted chapter I will write for this fic, so don't worry.**

"Rachel, baby, I need you to hear something."

Rachel looked intently at Quinn, her brown eyes searching hazel.

"I-I-I…" Quinn stuttered. How do you tell someone this?

I sighed and parked in an empty lot.

Rachel looked closer at Quinn's face, realizing the weariness for the first time.

"I-I-my…"

I saw the pain in her eyes and pulled of her shirt, revealing the raw and bruised skin.

Rachel recoiled. "W-w-w-w-Wh-"

"My dad is abusive. He rapes and hits me." Quinn said thickly, putting her shirt back on.

Rachel's eyes were now tortured. "Please… please tell me… please tell me this is a joke."

I cleared my throat. "My dad too. He… he found Santana today and thought she was me, so I had to tell her why my dad would be beating me up, then we figured Quinn needed to tell someone, and since you're her girlfriend-"

"You told them?" Rachel hissed, her fear momentarily forgotten.

Quinn nodded.

I started the car up again and headed to my house.

I saw the blinds shudder and saw my dad's car parked in the front. He had seen me, if I didn't come inside, there would be worse consequences later.

I closed my eyes, mentally bracing myself.

I stepped out of the car and shot a pleading glance at Quinn. She stepped outside, too. I took a deep breath and started off towards the house, Quinn following me. Santana and Rachel stepped out of the car confused, but we told them to wait.

They looked scared. Santana, thankfully, remembered the promise she made me earlier today.

"Don't call the cops." We made them swear.

Quinn and I ascended the slanted driveway.

We nodded and entered the house.

The first thing I comprehend is heavy. Very heavy. No idea what, but all I feel is heavy, something heavy all over me.

I scream as I realize it's my dad.

Quinn punched him, but he didn't let go. He dragged me upstairs. I whimpered, knowing where this was going.

I shot Quinn one last look and he disappeared with me into his room.

He threw me down on the bed. He ripped off his jeans and pulled down mine. He punched me in the jaw.

"You will look at me." He commanded, but slurred. "You will tell me you deserve this, that you are the reason your mother left. Right now."

I silently prayed. "I-I deserve it. I am the reason mom left you."

He hit me, still really drunk.

He smiled and shoved himself inside me. I screamed in pain.

He hit me again. Tears were streaming down my face, I could take him hitting, kicking, beating me. But this? This was what tore me to pieces.

He finished after a couple of minutes. He slapped me some more.

"Tell me you love me."

I swallowed. "I love you daddy."

He patted my head and turned me over on my stomach. He disappeared for a minute, then plugged in something.

I felt a white hot pain on my back and realized that he had my hair straightener.

He left it there for a while. I screamed as I felt it burn through my shirt.

God how I hated him.

He finally took it off, unplugged it and poured salt on my burn. Fuck, it hurt.

I screamed. He hit me on the head with the straightener. He picked up an empty beer bottle and smashed it across my head.

I pulled out my phone and texted Quinn.

The world went black as I saw my dad go downstairs.

**Quinn's POV**

I heard a scream and bed springs. I cried and silently prayed. I sunk to the floor before collecting myself and walking out to the car.

I slid into the backseat, my face expressionless.

Santana looked at me fearfully. "Where is she?"

I refused to respond until I got that fatal phone call or text. The seconds turned into minutes. Rachel rubbed my shoulder. I kept my emotions under control.

I glanced at the car clock. It had been over a half an hour.

A few minutes later I glanced at the clock again. Forty five minutes.

I finally received a text that simply said, "Help." I read it and I unbuckled my seatbelt. Something was wrong.

This time I let Santana and Rachel follow me and I cautiously opened the door.

I saw her dad passed out on the couch. I smelled burn.

I raced upstairs. Rachel went to survey the damage downstairs, Santana followed me, her eyes scared.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. I should say tried, because it was locked. God no. No. No.

I looked at Santana and we threw ourselves across the door, breaking it open.

I was in shock. Brittany was huddled in the fetal position, unmoving. She was never unmoving after an attack. I recovered quickly, and rushed to her side.

"Santana, get me a cold, damp cloth and clothes for Brittany."

She nodded and I sank down to her level.

I noticed the amount of blood coming from her forehead, her violated body, and her back looked like she had landed on a grill.

Santana reappeared behind me.

"Oh my god." She said.

"Wipe off her back, it looks like he literally rubbed salt in the wound."

She grimaced but did as told.

I stroked Brittany's hair. We couldn't tell the cops, they wouldn't believe us. I peeled one of her eyes open and it was blank.

I felt for a pulse and gasped in relief when I found one.

I got a glass of cold water from the bathroom and poured it on her, attempting to wake her up.

Her eyes fluttered just as we heard a scream.

Rachel.

**Brittany's POV**

I woke up to extreme pain. My back was being soothed, I wasn't sure how, and I fluttered my eyes. I saw Santana cleaning my back and Quinn inspecting my head.

I heard a scream.

" I AM NOT BRITTANY!"

Quinn gaped. How many of my friends were going to get hurt by my abuser?

I ran a dry tongue over my cracked lips and gulped.

"Go." I ordered.

Quinn bolted, genuine fear in her eyes.

I heard Rachel whimper and Quinn scream. I willed the world to go black again and felt lips on mine.

"We need each other." I heard Santana whisper.

I nodded and felt her lie next to me.

I slowly tried moving my head and found that I could, with much discomfort. I faced Santana and flipped my body to face her.

We kissed passionately, we needed to block out the world around us. There was no hair-grabbing, no groping, nothing. We just needed each other.

Quinn ran heavily up the stairs, and burst through the door sobbing.

We broke apart.

"Rachel… he… she… unconscious… bottle…blood…ten." She panted.

Santana looked at me with scared eyes, but that message took on a whole new meaning to me, who knew our code.

Rachel had been raped by my dad.

**AN: Told you it was dark… not gonna lie, this isn't a pretty fluff story, in case you haven't already figured that out. If you made it to this point, imagine how much harder that was for me to write than for you to read. **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Okay, thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've gotten.**

**Someone, however, called this story bullshit and said that there is no reason for them to put up with the stuff their dads do.**

**I have to say, I kinda agree with some of it. **

**I think I can safely say, from the amount of reviews/story alerts/author alerts/ positive reviews I have gotten that this isn't bullshit to a lot of people. But I am going to go into why they can't tell the cops and how they put up with it. **

**So thank you for your reviews, but if you don't like this story, why would you bother reviewing? Just saying.**

My eyes opened in shock. Let me think about this…

"You mean like, ten, ten?"

Her eyes widened. "No, like ten as in reaaaaally bad, not…that."

Santana looked very confused.

I turned to Quinn. "Take Rach home." I told her, then faced Santana.

"What questions do you have?"

"What's the worst thing he's done?"

"Today was pretty bad, the worst thing emotionally is beating up on you, but physically, one time..."

_I cowered in the corner as my father stood over me. He didn't do anything, just stared. Like Chinese Water Torture or something. _

_He slowly inched forward. He wasn't even drunk._

_He grabbed a pillow and held it over my head. I remember falling asleep and I woke up bleeding._

"He cut me San." I finished.

"Okay, next, are you okay?"

I looked at the genuine concern on her face. I shook my head. "No." I muttered.

She wrapped me in a hug.

"Last question for now. Have you ever tried suicide?"

I bit my lip. Her brow furrowed, her eyes already knowing the answer.

I sighed and showed her the scar running across my stomach.

"_You mean nothing to me. I would be better off without you. This is your fault. Your. Fault"_

_I ran upstairs. No one cared about me. _

_I texted Quinn. "I'm sorry, I just can't take it." _

_She found me just in time. We went to the hospital and told them I fell._

Santana opened her mouth.

"That was just the first time."

Her eyes widened in anger.

"The second time I took pills, third I made a smoothie out of vodka and sleeping agents. Fourth and final time I jumped off my roof."

I hung my head sadly.

Santana looked at Quinn with tears brimming in her eyes.

Quinn took a deep breath.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in. It takes time." She spoke slowly.

Santana rose to her feet.

"No… Why didn't you come to me? I'm your GIRLFRIEND! You trusted her? She was a rat for Sylvester and is a CHEATER! TWICE! SHE got fucking PREGNANT!"

I grabbed her hand.

"She was being beat too Santana. We needed to be there for each other."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL SOMEONE? YOU TRIED TO FUCKING DIE FOUR TIMES! No me gusta, Brittany. I'm done. I don't know if I'll be back. I'm just… done."

She turned on her heel and walked to the door.

"I'll take Rach home. Where's your dad?" Her expression softened at the tears running down my face.

Quinn answered for me. "He passed out again, grab Rachel as quietly as possible."

I heard her descend the steps and I let the tears fall. Quinn rubbed small circles on my back comfortingly.

"Doesn't she get how hard this was to tell her?" I sobbed.

I collapsed onto the bed, and my body shook. I had geniuninely hoped she would understand.

"Sing something?" I asked Quinn, who always knew exactly what to sing, what to say.

She took a deep breath.

"You know the bed feels warmer  
>Sleeping here alone<br>You know I dream in colour  
>And do the things I want<p>

You think you got the best of me  
>Think you had the last laugh<br>Bet you think that everything good is gone  
>Think you left me broken down<br>Think that I'd come running back  
>Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone  
>What doesn't kill you makes a fighter<br>Footsteps even lighter  
>Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger  
>Just me, myself and I<br>What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

You heard that I was starting over with someone new  
>They told you I was moving on over you<p>

You didn't think that I'd come back  
>I'd come back swinging<br>You tried to break me, but you see

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone  
>What doesn't kill you makes a fighter<br>Footsteps even lighter  
>Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger  
>Just me, myself and I<br>What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

Thanks to you I got a new thing started  
>Thanks to you I'm not the broken hearted<br>Thanks to you I'm finally thinking bout me  
>You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning<br>In the end...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone  
>What doesn't kill you makes a fighter<br>Footsteps even lighter  
>Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger  
>Just me, myself and I<br>What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone"

I took a deep breath, and sat up. I winced, fully aware of the pain in my back now.

To my surprise, I heard someone trudging up the stairs. My eyes were laden with fear.

I heard a small knock. A delicate knock that could only be coming from one Santana Lopez.

Quinn jumped up and opened the door.

Santana stood, Rachel in her arms, and fell on to the room.

I got up, wincing more.

I managed to make my way to the bathroom and grabbed some cold water. I came back to the room and poured it on Rachel, who was still unconscious.

She woke with a start. She locked eyes with Quinn and scurried over to her, curling into her lap.

"W-w-w-why d-don't you call the police or domestic violence h-hotline or something?"

I shook my head.

"We already tried."

"_Hello, 911, what's your emergency?"_

_/_

"_Let me get this straight, she came out to you and you got mad that she lied about having a boyfriend. She fell down the stairs trying to go to her girlfriend's house? And this is probably because she was trying for early emancipation?"_

"_Yes your honor."_

_I shook my head violently. He had tried to kill me. _

"_Case closed."_

I looked around, resurfacing from the memory.

"We have to… you can't stay here. And Quinn you can't either."

"Well where the fuck are we supposed to go?"

"Brittany can stay with me, Quinn can too."

I smiled at her charity, but a thought crossed my mind.

"We'll always have to go back. Even if we stay until we're 18, they'll find us."

She sighed. "Yeah. But at least-"

"Just… I'll consider it."

I heard Santana humming a song.

"What song is that?"

She gave me a small smile.

"I let it fall, my heart,  
>And as it fell you rose to claim it<br>It was dark and I was over  
>Until you kissed my lips and you saved me<p>

My hands, they're strong  
>But my knees were far too weak<br>To stand in your arms  
>Without falling to your feet<p>

But there's a side to you  
>That I never knew, never knew.<br>All the things you'd say  
>They were never true, never true,<br>And the games you play  
>You would always win, always win.<p>

But I set fire to the rain,  
>Watched it pour as I touched your face,<br>Well, it burned while I cried  
>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name!<p>

When I lay with you  
>I could stay there<br>Close my eyes  
>Feel you here forever<br>You and me together  
>Nothing is better<p>

'Cause there's a side to you  
>That I never knew, never knew,<br>All the things you'd say,  
>They were never true, never true,<br>And the games you play  
>You would always win, always win.<p>

But I set fire to the rain,  
>Watched it pour as I touched your face,<br>Well, it burned while I cried  
>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name!<p>

I set fire to the rain  
>And I threw us into the flames<br>Where it felt something die  
>'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time!<p>

Sometimes I wake up by the door,  
>That heart you caught must be waiting for you<br>Even now when we're already over  
>I can't help myself from looking for you.<p>

I set fire to the rain,  
>Watched it pour as I touched your face,<br>Well, it burned while I cried  
>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name<p>

I set fire to the rain,  
>And I threw us into the flames<br>Where it felt something die  
>'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time, oh, ohhhh!<p>

Oh noooo  
>Let it burn<br>Oh oh ohhhh  
>Let it burn<br>Oh oh ohhhh  
>Let it burn<br>Oh oh ohhhh"

I smiled again.

"Sorry for getting mad. This is just a lot to process."

I hugged her.

We collected ourselves and headed out of the room.

I led them into my room and opened the window.

Santana's eyes widened. "Oh hell to the no."

I shrugged.

Quinn smiled and I jumped onto the small strip of roof beneath me.

Quinn was next to me in a second. I smiled up at a scared Santana and Rachel.

"Oh come on, it's fun." I said.

I glanced at Quinn and jumped off the roof, executing a perfect backflip.

"You ready?"


	5. Chapter 5

A couple beats later, Quinn was next to me. I squinted and saw the forms above us in my bedroom on the third story.

I sighed and looked at Quinn. "Sissies."

I climbed up a tree onto the first level of my roof. I jumped up onto the second section and stood a few feet below them.

Rachel pushed past Santana and looked at me.

"You have got to be kidding." She said through clenched teeth, placing her hands on her hips.

I smiled a devilish grin and snaked an arm through hers, pulling her down. She gasped and found that she was okay.

"You can jump or I can push you." I said, still grinning.

She squeaked and I laughed as she jumped the rest, Quinn catching her.

I looked at Santana. "Come on, I do it all the time." I assured her.

She scowled as I helped her onto the roof. I winked at her and leapt off the roof, executing a perfect split in the air as I twisted into a no handed cartwheel, landing on the ground.

"Show off. Pero, tenga en cuenta a sí mismo, le pido que haga que en algún momento ... "

I smirked and hollered, "Claro, ¿qué tal esta noche? "

I heard her curse under her breath and she jumped, holding her breath. I grabbed her and kissed her chastely.

"See, that wasn't so bad." I kissed her hairline and set her down. I glanced at Quinn and Rachel, who were trying to suck each other's faces off. Ugh.

Santana and I shared a knowing smile and I went around to one side of them, Santana to the other. She and I simultaneously pressed our faces in, foreheads almost meeting theirs.

I whispered into Quinn's ear, "She has neighbors you know."

Quinn smiled.

Santana saw what I was doing and whispered into Rachel's ear, "Let's make lady babies."

I grimaced, she would say that. To my surprise, Rachel nodded. Gross.

We pulled back and clapped slowly.

They broke apart at the sound, Quinn breathless, and Rachel jumped out of her arms.

"Wow, you guys are gullible." I said. They shook their heads and laughed.

Once in my car, we dropped Quinn and Rachel at the Berry's. As we pulled out of the driveway Santana said something.

"What did you say?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"To make sure to use protection." She said smirking.

I sighed and caught a glimpse of Rachel flipping us off while Quinn shook her head.

I grimaced and drove Santana home. She hesitated.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah. Trust me, He's long gone by now. He won't be back for a few days." I smiled sadly, hoping that was true. She nodded and cartwheeled into her house.

"Show off." I muttered.

I took a deep breath and drove back to my prison.

/

"…"

"Rachel, what is it, what's wrong?"

"…Quinn…" she said numbly.

"Yes?" I asked.

"She…she was sleepwalking… she had a knife… she cut… help."

The line went dead. I sighed, Quinn suffered from parasomnia, which meant she slept walk and couldn't control what happened during sleep.

I pulled on a jacket and called Santana.

"Hey San, be ready in five, Quinn-"

"Already putting on shoes." She said, and I clicked the phone off.

I was about to head downstairs when I heard a rumbling that could only be the garage. He was home. And he would be looking for me.

I froze, unsure of how to react. It would be worse if I wasn't here, but Rachel needed me.

I called Santana. I heard him trudging up the stairs.

"Britt, I'm outside, where are you?" I set the phone down on my nightstand and he opened the door.

"Hello Brittany." He said coldly.

I realized I was shaking.

He slapped my face. Good, this I could handle. He punched me in the gut and kicked my head.

I sighed as he punched my ear, causing my earrings to bleed a little.

He pulled me to the ground, causing me to yelp a little, and he brought his elbow down with all his might on my knee.

He took a swig of the beer that was in his hand and passed out.

Well, at least he was quick this time.

I heard Santana's ragged breathing coming through the phone.

"I'm fine. I just needed you to know what happened if something did happen."

I limped downstairs and grabbed my car keys. Soon I was on my way to the Lopez's.

/

"…Brittany where are you? She won't wake up, help!"

"We're here." I told her as Santana and I pulled up into the Fabray's driveway.

I marched in the door and looked around me. Quinn was lying on the ground, a small flow of blood coming from her sleep-induced wounds.

She got up at the noise, and reached for the knife. Rachel slapped her hand. I shook my head.

"She doesn't listen. She has to wake up on her own and we can't stop her from doing this."

I rubbed Rachel's back comfortingly as Quinn slashed her arm.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. Santana looked away.

I took a deep breath and stepped towards Quinn.

"Quinn, give me the knife."

"Are you a… are you… snake?" she mumbled in her sleep.

"Yes, Quinn. Now give me the knife."

She whimpered and held it to her chest.

"Brittany, mom, no." She muttered.

"No Quinn, honey, wake up."

She fell back on the floor. I tugged the knife out of her grasp and glared at a frozen Rachel. "Grab all the knives and lock all the doors." I told her, and she nodded.

"Santana." I curtly addressed her, as her face was paling.

She looked at me. "Get some gauze and medical tape, Quinn keeps it under her bed."

Santana nodded.

I turned to Quinn, and kissed her forehead.

"Quinn, réveillez-vous, venez sur le miel, c'est juste un rêve. Vous êtes déjà à mi-chemin.Juste réveiller." I told her.

She opened one eye.

"Fuck, it happened again, didn't it." She stated the question.

"Yeah sweetie, it did. Santana's coming with the gauze."

A confused look spread across her features. "Gauze?" she followed my gaze to her cuts and her hand flew up to her mouth.

I rubbed her back. "Ce n'est pas grave, vous vous êtes réveillé, ne vous inquiétez pas."

She looked up at me, her eyes searching. She reminded me of a lamb, her hazel eyes tear-filled. "Oui, mais quand cela cessera? J'ai été prendre mes médicaments!"

I looked at her somberly. "Je ne sais pas quand il va s'arrêter, petit agneau. Pour l'instant, nous allons devoir attendre."

I heard footsteps, but Quinn didn't. I decided to keep comforting her.

"When will it stop? I want it to go away so badly and **he** causes the nightmares but I have no clue what happens during my sleep! Brittany I need my mommy! But she's gone to heaven so I have to live with this bastard!"

I glanced at the now two people in the doorway, their hands covering their mouths.

I rubbed her back and sat her up.

"Quinn, it's okay to be scared. I'm gonna sleep over tonight and tomorrow night. You're gonna be okay." I told her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "But what about your dad?" she asked.

"It's fine. You're more important. Te amo, Quinn. Don't ever forget that. I learned French for you and Spanish for Santana. Now I need to learn Polish or something for Rachel, but that shouldn't be too hard."

Quinn smiled and I pulled her into a hug. She looked up to me almost like a child would to a parent.

"Brittany, thanks for being my mom." She whispered.

I smiled and caught the two other's gazes.

"You're welcome, Quinn. I'm so sorry you lost her at such a young age, and then you had to pretend your aunt was your mom, and then she got married… I'm so sorry Quinn. I will gladly be your mom anytime you want."

She looked up at me and I smiled, putting on a brave face. I pressed a kiss to her hairline, causing her to smile and pull away.

She stood up and noticed the two in the doorway. She put on her glare and I sighed.

"How long have you two been standing there?"

"Long enough. Quinn, we need to talk."

She sighed and sat down at the table. I wrapped her wounds with gauze smiled at my handiwork.

"Kiss it makes it better?" she asked. I smiled again and kissed it. She relaxed.

"Your mom… when?"

"Seven." She said.

"Your aunt..."

"My mom's twin." She sighed. "My dad didn't want anyone getting suspicious that he… he… killed her so he made her carbon copy move in."

"He killed her?"

She turned away and I answered for her. "Yeah. He…beat her to death and Quinn had to watch."

Both their hands flew to their throats. "Oh my gosh." They said in unison. I nodded.

"She sleepwalks almost every night, but only on occasion does it get this bad."

Quinn looked them dead in the eyes. "Brittany is my mother figure. She cares for me, even learned the language my mother spoke to me in to comfort me, and is there when no one else is. My aunt left, my mother was murdered, and my father is a rapist. She is the only family that hasn't abandoned me yet."

She turned her head and sobbed into me. I looked at a shocked Rachel and a very depressed-looking Santana. I choked back my own tears, remembering the night my dad came home with the worst news ever.

"_Hey Brittany, your mother was killed in a car accident." He called up the stairs._

_And that's all he said before he raped me the first time._

Quinn's sobs subsided and I cradled her in my arms. "I know, life sucks sometimes, I know."


	6. Chapter 6

At school, I had to put up the ditz act again. Then, in glee club, things got bad. Artie was making some rude, fake-ghetto comment about a song, I think it was a decision between doing Brittney Spears or Lady Gaga this week. Both were done before, but the club felt we could do more with them, I guess.

Mr. Schue turned to me. "Brittany what do you want to do?"

I sighed. "Do what?" I asked a far off dreamy look on my face.

"Brittney Spears or Gaga?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Um, I like ducks. Like when we did the ballads and the ducks were in the hats, that was fun, so let's do that!"

Puck rolled his eyes. Santana glared at him and smiled at me.

"What I think Britts is trying to say is that we should mix a bunch of pieces of paper with the names on them into a hat, then draw, and whichever one we get is the one we do."

I looked at her gratefully.

Mr. Schue shrugged. Artie, however, flipped out.

"Oh please, she thinks unicorns are real. Let's just do Gaga and be done with it." He smirked.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Unicorns are real. So are leprechauns." I frowned the best frown ever.

He turned to me. "Brittany, you're so stupid that you think the President is Will.. The only job your intelligence level qualifies you for is either Hooters or a strip club."

I turned in shock at his words. The fuck he say…?

I felt tears streaming down my face as I ran out the door.

Santana growled and I sunk to the floor by the lockers.

I wipe away my tears and I hear Santana and Quinn yelling.

"…She gets enough of that at home! God damn we're supposed to be a team! How dare you? She's my girlfriend and I need to protect her!"

I got up and walked into the room.

"Es Está bien, Santana. Él no sabe nada mejor." I whispered.

I looked over at a fuming Quinn. "Quinn, calmez-vous. Il est juste fou, et c'est un connard quand il est fou. Tout simplement se détendre pour le moment, mais je pense que nous devrions leur dire. "

The club looked at me. I turned to Mr. Schue.

"Brittany, what did Santana mean?" he asked.

"Mi padre piensa que es divertido que era un fantástico y la violación de mí. Yo no soy un idiota, de paso." I told him.

He took a step back, eyes the size of saucers, and Santana looked at me with emotion.

I looked over at the club, all of whom were staring at me like I was a circus freak.

I glanced at Quinn and she nodded numbly.

"Chaque fois que vous êtes prêt, Quinn. "

She nodded.

I took a step forward. "Quinn and I are beat regularly. I am not an idiot as our _friend_ Artie thinks. I'd appreciate it if you had some compassion, because what they do is not even imaginable to your minds. And don't ask about the police, they already know. My dad basically told them that I was bi, and after I came out to him I tripped down the stairs trying to get to my girlfriend's house. They bought it and now we can't go back to court on this."

Tina fainted. Mike caught her, but looked a little woozy himself.

Artie looked…smug? Yeah, my ex looked smug.

I glared at him. "If you're so smart, what's the first 50 numbers of pi? What's Schrödinger's Cat? And if you're being beat up on, show us some evidence." He smirked. What was his problem?

Quinn, Rachel, and Santana growled in unison.

I shrugged and nodded. "3.. Schrödinger's Cat is an example of a much bigger idea. The idea is that if you have a cat, and you put it in a box that you can't see through with poison or something like that, until you open the lid of the box, you don't know if it's dead or alive. This gives it the quality of being both dead and alive. It's basically the concept that you can be two states, dead and alive, liquid and solid, sick and healthy, at the same time."

Artie's look vanished and the club looked at me with curiosity.

"As for evidence…" I said.

Santana bristled. "B, you don't have to." She told me.

I just smiled and said through gritted teeth, "No, Artie needs evidence because evidently, my word isn't good enough."

She shrugged and Artie scowled.

I pulled up my shirt to reveal skin peppered with fist-size bruises.

The club did a double take and I turned around, showing them my extremely painful burn.

"Well…w-well what about Quinn? She could be lying-"

I silenced him with a glare and she pulled up her shirt, showing giant handprints all over her torso and breast.

I looked at a pained Mr. Schue. "Quinn too." I told him and he paled.

I shrugged my shirt back on and they looked up at me with tears in their eyes.

"I'd like to trio with Quinn and Santana on a song, they know what it is."

I sat down at the piano and started playing the first chords.

Santana and Quinn smiled at me and we started singing.

_She walks to school with the lunch she packed_  
><em>Nobody knows what she's holdin' back<em>  
><em>Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday<em>  
><em>She hides the bruises with linen and lace<em>

_The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask_  
><em>It's hard to see the pain behind the mask<em>  
><em>Bearing the burden of a secret storm<em>  
><em>Sometimes she wishes she was never born<em>

_Through the wind and the rain_  
><em>She stands hard as a stone<em>  
><em>In a world that she can't rise above<em>  
><em>But her dreams give her wings<em>  
><em>And she flies to a place where she's loved<em>  
><em>Concrete angel<em>

_Somebody cries in the middle of the night_  
><em>The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights<em>  
><em>A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate<em>  
><em>When morning comes it'll be too late<em>

_Through the wind and the rain_  
><em>She stands hard as a stone<em>  
><em>In a world that she can't rise above<em>  
><em>But her dreams give her wings<em>  
><em>And she flies to a place where she's loved<em>  
><em>Concrete angel<em>

_A statue stands in a shaded place_  
><em>An angel girl with an upturned face<em>  
><em>A name is written on a polished rock<em>  
><em>A broken heart that the world forgot<em>

_Through the wind and the rain_  
><em>She stands hard as a stone<em>  
><em>In a world that she can't rise above<em>  
><em>But her dreams give her wings<em>  
><em>And she flies to a place where she's loved<em>  
><em>Concrete angel<em>

The club was crying by the time we stopped and I had tears in my eyes, too.

Quinn and Rachel shared a knowing smile and got up.

I held my breath, knowing what was about to happen.

They smiled at each other and I squeezed Santana's shoulder.

Within seconds Quinn and Rachel were fused at the lips.

The club grew silent and I laughed.

They pulled apart. "Three months. Three months I've been waiting to do that." Quinn told them. I grinned.

The club mouthed words but had none. I just adjusted my shirt and sang the words "Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone./I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run./You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess./It's a love story baby, just say yes."

The club grinned and Santana, being the bitch she is, started singing mockingly, "Going to the chapel, and we're gonna get married, going to the chapel…"

Quinn glared.

I grinned.

Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "Brittany, Quinn, I appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but seriously please talk to me. I understand that this is out of court hands but if you need anywhere to stay you now have a full support system in place."

I nodded and Quinn did too.

**In another part of the building…**

Two drunken men stumbled down the hallway, each armed with a knife. The smell of alcohol was enough to get you intoxicated. They made their way to the choir room. They nodded at each other and walked in the doors.

"Quinn, Brittany, it's time to go."

Brittany shook her head fearfully and so did Quinn.

They drew the knives.

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! I'll try to have this updated by the end of the week!**


	7. Chapter 7

They drew the knives and threw them at the girls. Luckily, they ducked in time, but Quinn's left ear was bleeding.

Santana jumped to her feet and hit the fire alarm. She and the rest of the club ran out into the chaos, not thinking that this would leave her love and her best friend in danger.

We were terrified of the men approaching us. My dad reached out and grabbed me, pulling me to his car. Quinn's dad did the same. I managed to text Santana "Help me."

/

"You-Bitch-Will-Come-When-You-Are-Told-To!" my father proclaimed, a word with every damned smack.

There was fear in my eyes and someone rang the doorbell.

"That's your girlfriend, isn't it? Well," he raised his voice, "It's Open!"

He whispered, "She deserves to see you like this after corrupting you."

Santana ran in through the door, followed by Puck, Finn, and Mr. Schue. Someone, I don't know who, had a video camera and was recording the beating. Sick.

I closed my eyes for the next hit, but none came. I was aware of the heavy weight that was my father being lifted off me and replaced by a softer one. Santana.

She reached out to brush a tear away from my cheek but I flinched away.

She brushed my hair back and snuggled into my bruised chest. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

I shook my head.

"Quinn. Her dad is worse than mine. We have to find her."

I dragged myself upright and saw Puck dragging my unconscious father to his car. Mr. Schue was showing Finn the video.

Santana followed my gaze and explained. "They took the video so you would have proof, and now, four witnesses."

Grateful tears shown in my eyes.

"We need to find Quinn." I said. Santana nodded, and after telling the guys where we were going, helped me to her car.

We stopped at Quinn's house and I walked to the side of her house, climbing up the tree that led to her balcony.

Santana followed, and I winced as I jumped over the ledge.

"Santana, hand me the video camera." I told her calmly.

She did, her eyes full of fear, as I recorded her father punching the unconscious form of Quinn, his boxers down along with her pants.

I shut it off and handed it back to her.

She followed me into Quinn's room. Her father was too drunk to notice us, so he continued beating.

We eventually got him off her, by sneaking around him and jumping on his back. Santana knocked him out with a good punch to the face, and drove him down to the police station.

I focused on the broken form of Quinn. I got a warm cloth and held it to her shivering form, whispering French to her.

It would be okay.


	8. Regrets

To the reader:

It is with a heavy heart that I will say goodbye to this account. It will still be active, in case you want to read my horrible writing again. I had to sort through a lot of personal demons regarding my mental health and sexuality. Once that was done, I reread my writing here and decided two things:

a) I had a severe horrible case of writer's block.

b) my writing, for the most part, was horridly juvenile.

My new account is Captain Wednesday III. I don't know how often I will post things that you guys like, as I have fallen out of most of my old fandoms. Feel free to follow me or PM me with any questions.

Regrets,

Hannah


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